Broken Rebel: A Lawless Kings Novel

by Sherilee Gray

  Lulu was up and at his side before he’d fully gotten through the door. He cursed, wrapped her in his arms, lifted her off her feet, and walked out, kicking the door shut behind them.

  That just left Neco and me.

  I stared at him and he stared back. “I’m fine. Look, I don’t think Scott is a threat, he’s just . . .”

  “Let’s go,” he said cutting me off, voice coarse, like gravel.

  I stood, and since he obviously wasn’t in the mood to discuss Scott, I asked the first question to pop into my head. “Where are we going?”

  “You can’t stay with Hunter anymore. You’re staying with me.”

  “But . . . Hunter said I could . . .”

  “He wants to make sure his woman and son are safe. Having you there puts them at risk. They’ve been through enough already.” He opened the door. “Jude will bring your shit over later.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. Hunter wanted me out of his place. I got that, and I knew it was for the best. I would die before letting anything happen to Lulu or Josh. But staying with Neco . . .

  My gaze slid back to him. He stood in front of me like a statue, hard and unmoving, nothing coming through, no fierce emotions, not like Hunter, nothing like the way he’d looked at Lulu when he walked in. It gutted me a little bit . . . okay, a lot. Though I’d tried to tell myself sleeping in the same bed as Neco, doing whatever the hell it was we were doing, wouldn’t get to me, it had. And I hated that I still had the ability to feel pain over him, especially when he’d never offered me more than protection.

  I wanted to say no. Spending more time with him was not a healthy choice for me. I was well aware of my weakness for this man, but right now, there weren’t any other options jumping out at me. I was stuck.

  I crossed my arms. “That’s the last thing I want.”

  “I know,” he murmured.

  Nothing else needed to be said. The decision was made. Until Scott was caught, I would be living with Neco.

  As I walked out into the hall, his hand went to the back of my neck, fingers curling around it in a way that could only be described as possessive. My first instinct was to shove him off, to tell him to back the hell off. He was messing with my damn head with all these touches and looks, and he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Instead, I headed to the elevator, mindful that, despite his lack of emotion, he was worried and trying to do the right thing by me.

  It was getting harder and harder to push my feelings aside to appease his, though. Something had to give, and soon. I couldn’t do this much longer.

  I didn’t see anyone else in reception and I assumed Hunter had taken Lulu home.

  We climbed in the elevator, walking out into the parking lot a minute later. Neco was still being quiet. I was kind of surprised how calm he seemed. Yeah, Neco could be emotionless, but that didn’t include anger. He let me know when he was unhappy, no holding back. I glanced over at him. He was close, eyes scanning the parking lot, his right hand down at his side. That’s when I realized he was holding a gun.

  “You think that’s necessary?” I said, looking pointedly at the piece in his hand.

  “Not risking it.” We got to his car and he opened the passenger side. “He tried to snatch you off the street in broad daylight. Fucker’s capable of anything.”

  I climbed in and he shut the door after me. The driver’s door opened and he got in beside me, started up the SUV, and we tore out.

  I turned to him. “Whatever is going on with Scott, I don’t think he wants to hurt me, not really . . . There’s something else . . .”

  Neco turned to me eyes sharp. “He beat the shit out of you.”

  “He was high, confused, agitated, I don’t know . . .”

  “Are you making excuses for that fucker? Really?”

  “No . . . I . . .” What? I let out a long breath and shook my head. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, what Scott was trying to do.”

  “At this point, all we know is he hurt you and could do it again. That’s the part I’m focusing on.”

  I didn’t reply and stared out the window. There was more to this whole thing, I just didn’t know what. All of a sudden I felt tired, exhausted. I had almost fully recovered from my injuries, despite a few remaining bruises. I’d managed to cover most of them on my face with makeup, but I knew they were there. Evidence of my weakness, my damned stupidity. The fact that I’d placed my trust in the wrong person. So no, I wasn’t making excuses for Scott. I despised the creep, but I got the feeling he was worried about me in his own fucked-up way, or at least wanted to warn me about something. At the apartment before he attacked me, then again earlier today, he’d said it wasn’t safe, emphasizing that we had to go, we had to get away. Could be the ravings of a paranoid drug addict on the edge, or it could be something more . . .

  I dropped my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. If I could’ve wished myself away in that moment, I would have. What the hell was wrong with me that people wanted to shit on me all the time? My stepmother had done her best to cut me down, from a very young age. To her I was worthless, and she wanted me to know it. I’d worked so hard to erase her cruel words, the awful things she’d put me through, to convince myself that I wasn’t what she said I was, that I was strong . . . that I was more. But then I’d gone and run around after Neco like a fool. He’d been stuck with me for years. His pathetic little shadow.

  Jesus. I wanted to run as hard and as far as I could, but I was trapped. He was stuck with me again, until this mess was sorted out. My mess. A mess that he would have to clean up for me—again.

  I glanced over at him, at the way his thick, long fingers gripped the steering wheel, the way the veins and tendons stood out, the way his biceps bulged and jumped as he drove. I lifted my gaze to his throat, his jaw, the way his nostrils flared and his eyes blazed . . . with white-hot rage.

  I jolted.

  Okay. I’d been wrong. Neco wasn’t calm, not at all. He was furious. Then I felt it, throbbing through the car, heavy and thick. Violence. The kind that was capable of the most terrifying acts, the kind that if you ever found yourself in the presence of it, you wouldn’t walk away. You’d run.

  “Neco,” I whispered.

  “Don’t,” he rasped. “Not one fucking word, Ruby.”

  I wasn’t stupid enough to push it. Not this time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ruby

  I followed Neco into his place and saw Jude had already dropped off my bags. They were just inside the door, and I inwardly cursed. Jude stopping by would have been a welcome break from all this tension. I’d been here before of course, but never past the kitchen/living room, and never on my own. The place was spacious, open, clean lines, no clutter, sturdy comfy couches, big screen TV, and not much else.

  The door clicked shut behind me and I jumped.

  “Bedroom’s down the hall.” He scooped up my bags and started in that direction.

  “How many rooms?” I asked, following him.

  “Two.” He carried on down to the one at the far end of the hall and used his boot to push the door open.

  This was not the spare room. I knew as soon as I walked in. The bed was rumpled. There were boots in the corner, a pair of running shoes. Jeans and a shirt on the floor. Personal stuff on the dresser—deodorant, a watch, a stack of papers . . . a set of cuffs.

  It smelled like Neco.

  “This is your room,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

  “It’s my room,” he said, confirming it in that growly voice. He was still angry.

  “I’d rather take the spare room.” He shook his head once. “Okay, the couch.”

  “No,” he said.

  Now I was getting angry as well. “What do you mean, no?”

  His nostrils flared. “For once in your life, can you do what you’re fucking told?”

  “Do what I’m told?” I seethed, reaching for my bag, trying to take it from him.

  He snatched it back and flun
g it to the other side of the room. “You sleep here.”

  My head jerked back. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.”

  This time his voice was so deep it was barely more than a rumble. Despite the violent rage rolling off him, I wasn’t scared of him, and I sure as hell wasn’t a fan of his heavy-handed, confusing-as-fuck behavior.

  “This is ridiculous. I am not sleeping with you,” I fired at him.

  “Yes. You are.”

  “No. I’m goddamn not.” I stalked over and snatched my bag from the floor. “I know you’re pissed at me, okay! I get it, Neco. I’ve taken some wrong turns, screwed everything up, put you in this fucked-up position looking after me again. I know you probably want to strangle me. Hell, I know you hate me right now. But I can’t deal with your temper tantrum.” I pointed to the door. “I’m sleeping in the spare room. I promise I won’t run off and get into more trouble, or whatever you think I’ll do. But I don’t need a fucking babysitter day and night, understand?” I finished, throwing his favorite word back at him.

  Those green eyes flashed, locking on me, and I almost took a step back. His hands went to his hips and he was breathing in hard, angry breaths. “Fuck, you’re clueless.”

  “Wow. Nice.” My eyes started to sting and that pissed me the hell off. “So I’ve been told . . . quite a few times actually.”

  Now it was his turn to flinch. “I didn’t mean it like that . . .”

  I shook my head. “Fuck you, Neco. Fuck. You.” Then I stormed toward the door.

  He stepped in front of it and kicked it shut.

  I dropped my bag and shoved at his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled. “Is this fun for you, fucking with my head day in and day out? Is this how you get your fucking kicks?”

  “Ruby,” he growled.

  “Don’t ‘Ruby’ me.” I shoved him again. “You’ve got a goddamn screw loose! How many personalities do you actually have? No really, I want to know . . .”

  “Calm your shit down. You’re still recovering.”

  “Cut the crap, would you?” His hands were gripping my biceps and I tried to pull free, but he wouldn’t let me. “You’re a control freak and you’re trying to control me as well. I’m not your goddamn puppy. I won’t heal or sit or stay . . .” I shoved harder and he finally let me go. “I sure as fuck won’t obey. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. Why you do the shit you do. But listen up, what happened to me had nothing to do with you. This is my mess. This time, it doesn’t need to be you, okay? You don’t need to be the one on the white charger coming to my rescue. I don’t need to be rescued.” I took another step back. “I’m asking you to back off and let me . . .” Get over you. “Take care of this myself. Van said he’d put me up. I’m going to his place. I can’t . . .” Shit, my eyes started to sting again. “I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

  “You finished?”

  I stared at him, fury firing though me. If I was closer, I would have kicked him square in the nuts. Here I was pouring my damn heart out and he . . .

  “Just shut up for five fucking seconds.”

  I blinked up at him. “My God. You really are an utter, utter asshole . . .”

  “Shut up,” he gritted out again and closed in, backing me up until I collided with the wall.

  My hands lifted to his shoulders, and I tried to push him back. “Where the hell do you get—”

  His mouth slammed down on mine, and I froze. I tried to shove at him again, but he pressed into me more firmly, didn’t let up, his lips sliding hungrily over mine, sucking, nipping . . . until I couldn’t think straight, until I forgot why I was resisting in the first place. All the anger I had burning inside me had shifted, transforming into pure, undiluted lust. His hands went to my ass and I wrapped my arms around his neck instantly, climbing his long, strong, beautiful body before he even had a chance to haul me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he growled into my mouth, earning a moan from me in reply. His full lips opened over mine, tongue delving deep, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow against my chin. God, the taste of him. I was lost, gone, and I knew there would be no recovering from this.

  My nipples grazed his hard chest and I whimpered, one of my hands curling around the back of his neck, holding him to me, the other dropping to his ass. I tilted my hips forward, desperate for more. The hard, unyielding length of his cock ground into me with enough strength to hurt. A startled cry was forced from my lungs and I almost came.

  His mouth moved along my jaw to my neck, sucking and nipping my sensitive skin.

  “Jesus, Neco,” I croaked. “Please . . .”

  A rumbling sound vibrated through his chest and he slammed into me harder. The deep bruises on my side protested and a cry escaped my lips before I could stop it.

  He stilled suddenly, tearing his mouth from mine, barking out a curse. His head dropped to my shoulder, his panted breaths burning against my skin.

  “Neco . . .”

  “Fuck.” He lowered me suddenly, stepping back. His eyes were wild, angry. “Fuck,” he said again, louder, sharper than before, backing up. Rage rolled off him, so much so that I froze like a startled rabbit. That just seemed to make him angrier. “Goddammit. I need to . . .” he cursed again and yanked the door open beside me then stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.

  I stood there stunned, still staring at the door long after he’d stormed through it. My butt met the carpet a few seconds later. I drew up my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, staring out the window on the other side of the room. Neco was a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel, not to me, never to me. But right then, I was having a hard time working out a motive for his behavior toward me. He was basically furious with me all the time. He’d kissed me, three times now. Something I’d wanted since I was old enough to know what a kiss was, a real kiss. But it was starting to feel like he was using it against me, to punish me when I got out of line. Like he was using my feelings for him, that obviously weren’t so secret, to control me.

  After everything we’d been through, even after everything I’d done to get his attention, the mistakes I’d made, I never thought he’d treat me that way. A memory started playing like a movie in my head, before I had the strength to shove it away.

  I ran across the road, wincing as stones dug into my bare feet, a kitchen knife gripped in my hand for protection. Climbing out the window was easier without shoes, and no way in hell was I using the front door, not again. I didn’t want Valery seeing the bruise that had come up almost instantly on my face after that guy had hit me. Right then, getting to Neco, talking to him, was more important than anything. It was 3 a.m. and still dark. I’d waited until the thumping beat of music from Tomas’s place stopped echoing down the street, until I knew the party was over. God, the way he’d gone after those guys. He’d beaten them half to death.

  I couldn’t wait until morning to talk to him. The sick, queasy feeling in my belly wouldn’t go away, and I knew it wasn’t going to, not until he looked at me like he always did, like I was special, like I meant something to him. Not until I was sure he wasn’t mad at me for following him to that party.

  I slowed down when I hit the driveway, being as quiet as I could so I didn’t wake his mom, and rounded Neco’s house. The lights were out, all except a dim light coming from his bedroom window. His lamp was going. He was still awake.

  Suddenly, I was nervous. This was Neco, for God’s sake; I had no reason to be nervous. But I needed to tell him what I’d planned to when I went to that party, before everything had gone to hell. Yes, telling someone you loved them for the first time was a momentous thing, but once I said it, once he knew, he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore, that we were just friends, that he didn’t feel the same way.

  Impulsively, I plucked a cherry blossom from the tree outside his bedroom and tucked it behind my ear then walked to his window, like I had a hundred times before, and lifted my fist to tap on the glass . . .r />
  It froze midair then flew to cover my mouth.

  I was going to be sick.

  A girl was naked on Neco’s bed, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders. Her legs were spread, and Neco was pumping his hips between hers over and over again. I couldn’t move, watching as she curled her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Neco pulled away and started thrusting into her faster.

  I just stood there, unable to move as pain flowed through me, knocking the wind from my lungs. Neco’s face contorted, his muscular body straining as he slammed into her twice more. Then he groaned, and though I’d never done it, I’d seen people having sex, and I knew he was coming. Pleasure, pain transformed his face into an expression I’d never seen before. And I hated it, so much, that some girl, some nobody who could never mean to him what I did, got that, got something that I never would.

  Chest rising and falling, Neco pulled out of her body and straightened . . .

  A hot tear streaked down my cheek. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and a sound, like a wounded animal, burst past my lips.

  His head shot up and his eyes locked with mine through the window.

  I spun and ran, as fast as I could. I didn’t go home. I kept running until my feet were bleeding, until the sun came up, until I couldn’t run anymore.

  I shook off the memory.

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I refused to break down, not here, not now, and not after what just happened. I sat there for the longest time, trying to decide what my next move would be, half expecting Neco to walk back in, to apologize, to say something. He didn’t.

  Finally, I pulled out my phone and messaged Van. He’d offered his place, and right then, I didn’t know where else to go. I just knew I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t be around Neco and his anger. I definitely wouldn’t survive another one of his punishments. Van texted back almost instantly that he was on his way.